


Who's the Monster?

by MontanaSkye27



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kidnapping, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-20 20:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17029791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MontanaSkye27/pseuds/MontanaSkye27
Summary: After being hunted by the infamous killer on Halloween night, a young woman takes Michael captive and decides to deal with him in her own special way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was born because of a conversation I had with a friend from work. Hope you enjoy!

“Someone help me!”

Jacqueline Murphy ran down the dark Haddonfield streets like a bat out of hell. Her long dark hair flew out behind her and her shoes thumped rapidly against the concrete. She glanced behind her every few feet or so to make sure she wasn’t being followed, but she knew deep in her heart that it wouldn’t be long before she was found. 

It was Halloween night and as everyone in Haddonfield knew (hell, even people in other towns knew), tonight was not the night to be wandering the streets after dark.

Not if you wanted to stay alive, at least. 

Of course, some foolish residents believed Myers wouldn’t show up. It had been several years since he’d been seen. They assumed him dead. Others knew better. Trick or treating commenced anyways.

It turned out to be a mistake.

Myers did appear, slashing through people left and right without a shred of remorse. Jacqueline watched him butcher two of her coworkers and took a swing at her before she ran, escaping with a small slash on her arm.

Now she was alone. She slowed to a stop and looked around, hoping for some sign of human life besides herself and the psychopath that was after her. There was nothing. The houses were dark, residents hidden inside for their own safety. She doubted anyone would let her inside anyways even if she were to knock on someone’s door. 

Jacqueline decided it best to keep moving. It would probably be the only way for her to stay alive.  
\-----  
Jacqueline had heard the tales since the day she moved to Haddonfield. Local 6-year-old boy brutally murders his sister on Halloween night and is committed, only to break out at 21 and return home to continue the slaughter, leaving a bloodbath for years to follow. Because of this, at least up until recent years, Haddonfield had banned Halloween altogether. It wasn’t safe. 

Michael Myers lived in infamy in Haddonfield, the town’s local urban legend that really wasn’t. To know his name was unnerving, to encounter him was a literal death wish.

He was silent, deadly, and seemingly immortal. Stories told of him being stabbed, shot, supposedly even set on fire, and yet he kept coming back. This man—MONSTER—was unstoppable. Not even Myers’ own psychiatrist had been able to stop him. It seemed nothing was able to quench his bloodlust. 

Jacqueline paused in her thoughts when she reached the entrance to the local park. She lingered, unsure of whether to enter or not. The park was a shortcut to get to her house and she used it quite often, during the day at least. But now that it was pitch black out and there was a mass murderer lurking around it just didn’t seem like a safe place to be.

Really though, there WAS nowhere safe to be tonight, not even your own home. Myers wasn’t the least bit shy about walking right into whoever’s house and ending their life without so much as a second thought. 

Jacqueline shook her head.

_ Fuck it. I need to get home fast. The sooner I do, the better. _

She took one then two steps in and then was going through the park at a quick pace, trying to ignore the rapid beating of her heart. Something just wasn’t right. 

SNAP!

The sound of a stick snapping nearby made her turn around quickly. Jacqueline saw nothing at first except for complete darkness that even the moon’s light couldn’t brighten.

When her eyes adjusted, Jacqueline was able to make out a figure lurking around in the shadows. A chill shot up her spine and her arms broke out in goosebumps.

Jacqueline watched as the figure stepped out of the shadows towards her. One look at the pale white face was all she needed.

_ Shit! _

Myers had found her. He was still carrying the knife he’d used to slaughter Jacqueline’s friends earlier in the night. The blade glinted in the moonlight.

She took a step back. Glancing down, she spotted a decent sized but broken piece of tree branch lying in the grass and snatched it up. 

“Alright, you son of a bitch, let’s go,” 

Myers got closer and that’s when she struck. Jacqueline swung the branch and it connected with his chest, causing him to stagger back slightly. He swung the knife at her but missed. Jacqueline hit him a second time, dislodging the knife from his grip and sending it into the grass. Without a second thought, she dove after it.


	2. Chapter 2

Jacqueline’s fingers had barely closed around the knife handle when her ankle was grabbed. She let out a scream as Myers dragged her towards him, thrashing her body to break free. His grip held tight and he squeezed her ankle roughly in the process, her ears picking up on the sound of bone cracking.

Jacqueline cried out as pain shot through her leg and thrashed again, twisting her body enough to roll and kick Myers in the stomach with her other foot. He doubled over slightly and ended up releasing her ankle. It throbbed, and Jacqueline hissed under her breath knowing that it was probably broken. 

_ Ignore the pain, Jackie. Focus! _

By that time, Myers had straightened up. He grabbed for Jacqueline again, but she was faster. She jerked away and grabbed the knife, turning and plunging it into his abdomen. 

Myers stiffened and then staggered back about a foot, dropping into the grass where he lay completely still.

Jacqueline scrambled up from the grass as fast as she was able with her now injured ankle. She stared over at him.

 _Is he….?_

From where she was standing, she couldn’t tell. Myers lay in the grass and didn’t appear to be breathing. Jacqueline located the branch she had discarded earlier and picked it up, slowly inching her way over to him. Her ankle throbbed still, and the rest of her body felt weak. Dirt, blood, and grass stains covered her clothes and her hair was plastered to her forehead. 

Jacqueline got within just short of arms reach of Myers and stopped, gazing at him again. He was sprawled on his back, motionless. The knife was still stuck in his abdomen and a bloodstain was slowly spreading over the dark blue coveralls. She had the thought of just leaving Myers lying there but something told her that it wasn’t a good idea. She’d have to figure out a way to move him.

How the hell am I going to do that?

Jacqueline was lost in thought now, so much so that she never saw Myers’ left hand move. It curled into a fist briefly and then gripped onto her bad ankle, sending pain through her again and making her cry out. She jerked back as he sat up and at the same time she swung the branch, making it connect with his head. 

For one of the few times in his life, Michael Myers felt pain. Searing pain ripped through his skull. Through the eyeholes of his mask, his vision was blurry and there appeared to be a blackness growing. His grip on Jacqueline’s ankle loosened and his hand dropped into the grass again. The blackness grew bigger, darker. There was a dizzy sensation swarming his body and blood trickled down the side of his head

He blacked out.


	3. Chapter 3

When he finally came to, Michael found himself lying on concrete. Where exactly he was though, he didn’t know. As his eyes slowly adjusted, he spotted a staircase several feet away. To the far left side, there was a washer and dryer along with shelves filled with miscellaneous items. Clothes hung on a rack nearby. Judging from the dampness in the air, it was apparent this was a basement. Michael must have been in someone’s house. 

Well, that didn’t matter. He’d made his way into many a house over the years. He would simply kill whomever was here, slip out the door, and be on his way and out of sight before anyone else could catch him.

That was the plan, anyway. As Michael began to rise from the floor, he realized he could only get so far before his arm caught on something. He tried several times and got the same result. Irritated, Michael looked over to see what the problem was.

Cozied up next to him was an old metal radiator. It was cool to the touch with no visible sign of heat coming from it so it was broken or currently turned off. Either seemed plausible.

His eyes slowly traveled over the radiator. It was the same color as the wall, a dark grey, and there appeared to be at least an inch of dust upon its surface. Michael noticed something else. Attached to the radiator was a pair of handcuffs, and one half connected to his wrist. He was chained, explaining why he could only move so far before it caught.

He stared blankly for about a minute and then roughly yanked his wrist. The handcuffs clinked mutedly but didn’t budge. The radiator was bolted down and stayed firm. The basement door rattling caught his attention and he jerked his head in the direction of the sound.

The door opened, and light flooded in from upstairs. A figure appeared in the doorway and made their way down the stairs. Michael watched as they descended, stopping in front of him.

“Hello, Michael.” The feminine voice reached his ears. He stared silently, blackly. “You don’t seem happy to see me,” she continued. “But then again, do you even know what happy feels like? I doubt it.” The woman gave a laugh and reached up, pulling a light cord and bathing both in pale yellow light. Michael blinked once.

Jacqueline stared down at him. Her dark hair, damp from a shower, hung in soft curls. She wore a pink tank top and a pair of black pajama shorts and both her arm and ankle were wrapped. 

“I took the liberty of cleaning myself up as you can probably see. I wasn’t sure how long you’d be out, but I figured if you DID try to leave, you wouldn’t get very far anyway.” She laughed again. “It’s funny, the nurse that took care of me at the quick care center wondered if you had anything to do with these.” Jacqueline gestured to her bandages. “You’re quite famous around these parts, Mikey.”

She paused and looked at him, checking for a reaction. There was none, just that same black stare.

“Well anyways, I lied and told her no, it wasn’t you. I said I was just clumsy and slipped in the woods on my way home. She bought it.” Jacqueline flashed him a smile. “She was a nice woman, so I felt bad for lying, but oh well. She’ll be fine and so will I. The cut on my arm isn’t that bad and my ankle is only fractured, not broken. That’s a relief, considering the grip you had on it. I admit you’re stronger than you look.”

She paused. “Wow listen to me ramble. I haven’t even properly introduced myself. My name’s Jacqueline, but you can call me Jackie if you’d like. Not that you will, of course.” She shrugged. 

“Well anyways, enough chit-chat. I’m kind of tired from you chasing me all over kingdom come tonight so I’m off to bed. You might as well get comfortable where you are because you’re going to be there for a while.” She turned and started making her way back up the stairs, pausing again and regarding him one more time. 

“I patched you up too. I’m no doctor, but it’s not too bad if I say so myself. It was a deep wound, but you’ll be fine, so long as it’s properly taken care of. I didn’t bother fixing your jumpsuit, it’s ratty enough as it is. As for your head, I left it alone. I’d imagine it still hurts, right?”

Silence. 

“I’m sure it does. I did hit you pretty hard after all. Like I said though, you’ll be fine. Possibly a concussion, but at the very least a bad headache. C’est la vie, I suppose.” Jacqueline went up the basement stairs. Michael’s eyes followed her the whole way.

When she got to the top, she flipped a switch, which shut off the light at the bottom of the stairs. “Happy Halloween, Michael. Sweet dreams.” Jacqueline shut the door and walked away laughing, bathing the killer in complete darkness.

Her laughing faded slowly as she walked further away from the basement door and soon he was left in complete silence. 

Michael sat there in the damp darkness. The injuries to his head and abdomen throbbed steadily but he ignored them. He sat a while, not thinking, not moving. The only noises he picked up on was the occasional groan of the house settling and his own breathing. Eventually, he tuned everything out. Michael heard nothing, saw nothing, thought nothing.

The rage slowly built.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this chapter is a little gross.

October 31st came and went. The bodies of the slaughtered were found and properly taken care of. Law enforcement had lost Myers’ trail. It was several days into November and Jacqueline sat on her couch one morning with a cup of coffee, watching the news.

_“Haddonfield police still have no whereabouts of where the infamous serial killer, Michael Myers, has gone.” The pretty brunette on the screen spoke somberly, amber eyes stony as she gazed at the camera. “According to witnesses, he was last seen at a Halloween party at the town community center, where he slaughtered several people within minutes. After that, he seemed to disappear. Law enforcement has encouraged residents to pay close attention to their surroundings, especially at night. We now take you to the sheriff with more coverage.”_

The camera changed, now showing a balding, middle-aged man, dressed in a tan khaki uniform. He addressed a crowd of people. _“Ladies and gentlemen, I can assure you that we are doing all that we can to find this criminal. My team has checked several locations around town, including Myers’ childhood home, and have been unsuccessful in locating this criminal. Take caution, as Myers is armed and extremely dangerous. He will strike without hesitation. I urge anyone that has even the slightest bit of information to come forward. If you wish to stay anonymous, you can also call our tip line. Any and all help is appreciated in locating him. We will update the public as we receive more information. Thank you.”_

Jacqueline turned the television off as the number for the tip line flashed on the screen and stood up from the couch. She stretched and looked at the clock, deciding to go get dressed. Her place of employment was still shut down due to the murder of her coworkers, so she decided to run some errands instead.

After she had dressed, Jacqueline sauntered into the kitchen and made a sandwich. It wasn’t for her though. She grabbed the plate and headed down to the basement, turning on the light as she went.

Michael sat on the floor, chained to the radiator as he had been for the last few days. He didn’t acknowledge Jacqueline whatsoever, just continuing to stare blankly at the wall.

“Good morning, Michael.” Jacqueline’s voice was pleasant as she walked over. “I don’t know what exactly you eat, but I brought you some food anyways.” She set the plate down within reach of his unchained hand. He remained motionless. She stepped back and looked him over. 

“How are you doing? I thought I’d take a look at your head after all.” Jacqueline moved to lift Michael’s mask and that’s when he reacted. Michael lunged, grabbing at Jacqueline. 

She jumped out of his reach, taking a seat at the bottom of the stairs. “Wow, talk about aggressive. See if I bother helping you again.”

Michael made a grab at her again and started to stand up when he suddenly wobbled. He pressed his unchained hand to the forehead of his mask and dropped back down to the floor heavily. Jacqueline watched, a smirk appearing on her face.

“Well Mikey, seems like you do have a concussion after all. Serves you right, asshole.”

She stood up and sauntered over to a shelf that held a rather large stereo and collection of CDs and ran her fingers over some of the cases. “Look, I’m just trying to be nice, but if that’s how you’re going to act, then I guess I have no choice but to punish you.” 

Jacqueline selected a CD at random and looked at the cover. “Mm, this one should do nicely.” She turned on the player and slipped the disc in, turning the volume up.

Heavy metal music immediately burst from the speakers, loud enough that the speakers and walls vibrated. From his spot on the floor, Michael jerked violently and proceeded to cover his ears through the mask, hunching over slightly in the process. 

“Aw, poor baby. Is the music too loud?” Jacqueline laughed, shouting over the music. “Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it? Should have behaved.” 

She made her way back to the stairs and started ascending. “I’ll be back later, Michael. Enjoy the music!” She closed the door firmly behind her.

Back in the kitchen now, Jacqueline made quick work of grabbing her purse and keys and left the house. It’d be a while before she got back.  
\------  
By the time Jacqueline returned from running errands, the sun had begun to set. The sky was a mix of oranges and yellows, with hints of dark blues starting to appear. As she unloaded a few bags from the back of her car, Jacqueline’s ears picked up on the sound of the music coming from the basement. She wasn’t the least bit worried about any noise complaints, she lived far enough back from the streets that no one would hear.

When she walked inside, Jacqueline took her sweet time unpacking and putting away the things she had picked up while out. Finally, she poured herself a glass of wine and sauntered down into the basement.

Michael hadn’t moved since she left and made no effort to acknowledge her presence. Jacqueline was confident he hadn’t even heard her come down due to the volume of the music. She picked up on the scent of vomit and took a second to look him over.

Michael was slumped against the wall and didn’t seem to be awake. He had indeed vomited, and several times at that. It was down the front of his jumpsuit and oozed slowly out of the mouth and nose of his mask. Jacqueline went and turned the stereo off.

“Michael.”

Nothing.

“MICHAEL.” There was an edge to Jacqueline’s voice as she walked back to him. Michael reacted, quickly jerking his head toward her. That turned out to be a mistake.

The abrupt movement caused his body to lurch and Jacqueline heard him make a strangled noise in the back of his throat. A spray of vomit erupted out of the mask like a geyser, adding to the mess he had already made. 

“Aw, poor Mikey’s not feeling well, huh? That’s too bad.” Jacqueline laughed and took a drink from her wine glass. “I mean, look at you, you’re a mess! Sitting in your own vomit like some helpless child. Pathetic.”

The only response he gave was another strangled burp. Jacqueline could see the killer’s body trembling. Michael looked so pitiful that she almost felt sorry for him. Almost. 

“Right, well, are you going to let me take a look at your head now?” she asked. Michael made a movement that Jacqueline almost missed due to his quivering, but she saw him shake his head.

“No? So, what you’re telling me is that you’d rather stay sitting in your own puke then? Well, that’s fine with me. I’ll get rid of this too since you clearly didn’t want it.” Jacqueline stooped and picked up the plate that held the untouched sandwich. “Sweet dreams then, Michael. You can choke to death for all I care.”

She left after that, leaving Michael alone once more. And there he sat, just as he had been since he’d first been locked up. Slowly, eventually, his tremors subsided. Motionless now, he stared at the wall, not seeing it but seeing THROUGH it. Silence filled his ears and the scent of vomit filled his nose. The mess on his jumpsuit and in his mask dried stiff, his throat sore from retching and lack of fluids.

His hand curled tightly into a fist. The skin on his knuckles stretched and split open, blood pouring down his fingers. Michael ignored it.

The rage grew.


	5. Chapter 5

About a week after the basement incident, Jacqueline lay asleep in her bed one. A late season thunderstorm roared outside, the howling winds whisking leaves and miscellaneous debris around Haddonfield. She rolled over onto her side and buried her face into the pillow.

Around 2 a.m., a loud bang of thunder jolted Jacqueline from her peaceful slumber. She moaned into the pillow and turned onto her back. Now that she was awake, so was her bladder. 

Grumbling, Jacqueline pushed back the covers and made her way to the bathroom. She relieved herself and padded back to her room, retreating under the covers.

Sleep didn’t return quickly. For a while, Jacqueline tossed and turned restlessly. Finally, she gave up and just stared at the ceiling, her eyes wandering over the spider-like cracks in its surface. 

_ Why am I suddenly wide awake? _

She gave a groan and decided to shut her eyes anyways but opened them again when lightning flashed. Storms didn’t usually bother her, but for some reason, Jacqueline felt uneasy.

She figured out why moments later.

The next time lightning flashed, it illuminated the whole room. Eerie shadows appeared on the walls and the one that caused her to do a double take was decidedly human.

_ What the FUCK? _

Jacqueline sat up quickly and turned on the lamp that was next to her bed. Her eyes scanned the room but saw nothing. Slowly she turned the light off and lay back down. She had just gotten comfortable again when a violent clap of thunder sounded, shaking rattling the window panes. Another bright flash of lightning followed.

The shadowy figure had returned on the wall and it appeared to be facing her. Jacqueline rolled over quickly, and her heart leaped into her throat.

Michael loomed over the bed, staring down at her. In his hand he held a kitchen knife, the blade gleaming. She had no time to react when he lunged, plunging the knife into her stomach. A scream burst from Jacqueline’s throat.

She woke up. 

Bolting upright, Jacqueline looked wildly around the room. Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest as she gasped for air. She saw nothing, heard nothing. The storm had passed, the outside world as quiet as the inside. It had been a terrible dream.

Jacqueline exhaled and slowly laid back down. She let her eyes shut.

_ What if he got loose? _

Her eyes shot back open. Jacqueline shoved back the covers and rushed out of the room. She slowed as she entered the kitchen, stopping and retrieving a knife from the drawer. 

Then she crept to the basement door and descended quietly.

In the pitch black of the basement, Jacqueline could barely make out Michael’s form. Her eyes adjusted after a couple of minutes and she stared hard at him. Like he often was when she came down, Michael was motionless on the floor. However, her ears picked up on the sound of very faint snoring. He was asleep, still chained to the radiator. 

She picked up on something else – a terrible odor. It was a vile mix of stale blood, dirt, vomit, and god only knew what else. Michael reeked.

_ Jesus Christ! _

Jacqueline clamped her hand tightly over her mouth and backed up, suppressing a gag. Retreating upstairs, she threw up in the kitchen sink. 

“Ugh….”

She rinsed the sink and her mouth out and sighed. Michael would have to be cleaned up, simple as that. Jacqueline had no idea how she was going to do it, but she would worry about that later. She set the knife down on the counter and returned to her bedroom. Sleep still didn’t return, though. She remained wide awake for some time.

Why was she suddenly so nervous?  
\-----  
In the morning, armed with a bucket of hot soapy water, several cleaning products, and the knife, Jacqueline returned to the basement. Michael was awake and standing up, which made her hesitate briefly at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at her with a silent intensity that made a chill race down her spine. She remembered her nightmare from last night.

_ Don’t be stupid, Jackie. It was a bad dream, that’s all. _

Jacqueline kept her composure. “Hello, Michael. You look like you’re feeling better.” Her voice was calm, but she kept out of arm’s reach. He continued staring her down.

She continued. “I’ll cut to the chase. You smell vile. The smell of you alone is enough to make anyone sick. So, whether you like it or not, you’re getting cleaned up. I know for a fact your mask is still filled with puke and your jumpsuit is an absolute disaster. It really should be burned.”

Jacqueline walked closer. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll just….” She reached for the neckline of the mask and Michael reacted, swiftly grabbing her wrist. Temporarily she froze, remembering Halloween night. Her ankle hadn’t fully healed yet and she wasn’t about to add a broken wrist to her list of ailments.

“Not a smart idea, Michael. Believe me, I know what you’re capable of.” She leveled his gaze. “However, you also know what I’m capable of.” Jacqueline pointed her free hand at his abdomen. “I know you saw the knife when I came down, so I think it’s best if you just cooperate, don’t you?”

Michael didn’t react. He appeared to be studying Jacqueline, taking in what she said. Slowly though, his grip loosened, and her wrist was released.

“Good choice.” She stepped back, regarding him coolly. “Now, would you like to do the unmasking, or should I?”

Silence, as expected.

“Last chance, Michael.” 

He moved then. His fingers flexed, curled into fists, then relaxed. Then Michael raised his hands, grasped the neck of the mask, and pulled.

This was about to get interesting.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I took a step back from this fic due to the holidays, but finally here's the newest chapter! Side note: Michael's appearance is taken from his brief unmasking in the original 1978 film. Eye color is borrowed from quick shots in later (albeit technically retconned) films. I loved James Jude Courtney's performance in the 2018 film, but couldn't write Grandpa Myers as he makes me uncomfortable. Hope you enjoy! ___

As Jacqueline watched, Michael’s mask came off. He held it down at his side and stared at her. She took a step closer, observing the features that had been kept hidden.

Hazel eyes rimmed with dark circles bore into hers. Brown hair framed his face, beige skin ashen. His lips, crusted in dried vomit, set in a straight line. Except for his eyes, Michael looked entirely apathetic. Like a blank slate.

“Wow.” Jacqueline’s voice held a note of surprise. “Well, Mikey, that’s not at all what I expected to see under there. I have to say, you’re almost handsome.” Her eyes dropped from his face down to the mask. “Hand it over.”

He didn’t move.

“Now, Michael.” 

Gradually his arm moved, and he extended the mask out. Jacqueline snatched it and examined it. 

The white latex mask appeared faded. Dried vomit was crusted around the nose and mouth, both inside and out. Old dirt and blood were also visible and the hair on top appeared rough and dingy. The odor coming from it was unpleasant.

“Ugh. This thing has been put through the wringer,” she remarked. “I’m surprised it hasn’t fallen apart by now.” Jacqueline ran her hand over the top of the mask. “Well, I’ll clean it up best I can, but I’m not expecting a miracle. At the very least, it won’t smell like death.” 

She looked at Michael. “Your jumpsuit and the floor where you’ve been sitting have to be washed as well. You do too, but…. I’m not going to worry about that part yet. No offense, Michael, I don’t want to have to touch you any more than necessary. I like having my limbs intact. You understand I’m sure.”

Michael blinked at her, and Jacqueline knew that was as close to any response he was going to give. “Good enough. Now I guess we’d better think of the best way to get that jumpsuit off you. I was able to shift it briefly to take care of your wound, but you were also unconscious, so it wasn’t AS risky.”

It had been risky enough, though. Jacqueline remembered that night clearly.  
\-----  
_After she moved him to the basement (not the easiest task), Jacqueline moved quickly to get him patched up. She carefully removed the knife and parted the torn area of Michael’s jumpsuit to assess the wound. Miraculously, it had stopped bleeding, but it was obvious it was a deep wound._

__

__

_“How?” Jacqueline muttered to herself, running her tongue nervously over her lower lip. “Shouldn’t you be dead?”_

_That didn’t matter now. Armed with supplies she had around the house, Jacqueline got to work. She cleaned the area as best she could and set to stitching it up, all while her eyes constantly darted to Michael’s unconscious form. She watched for any sort of movement: the twitch of a hand, a leg, ANYTHING. Anything to let her know that he was awake and ready to strike._

_Nothing happened._

_Jacqueline moved quickly after that. When she was finished, she gave him one last look over and then proceeded to chain him to the radiator. She tugged the handcuffs to assure they were sturdy and then left to clean herself up, her body trembling._

  
\----- 

Turning her attention back to Michael, Jacqueline was greeted with the sight of him unfastening his jumpsuit.

“Hey!” Her voice came out startled and she momentarily turned her head away. “What the hell are you doing?”

Michael brought his head up, staring hard at Jacqueline. Then he tilted his head and ever so slightly arched an eyebrow as if to say, _“What does it look like I’m doing?”_

She looked back at him. “Idiot.” Jacqueline’s tone turned blunt. “Do you really think that’s going to work?” She laughed. “You won’t be able to take it off if you’re cuffed….” Jacqueline’s voice trailed off as she began to piece it together.

“What exactly were you hoping for, hm?” She tilted her head at him. “That I’d look away, get all bashful? Right.” Jacqueline crossed her arms and leaned up against the bottom of the bannister. “Look, Mikey, I’ve seen a handful of men in various states of undress in my years and let me tell you, this?” She gestured at him. “It does nothing for me. But if you really want to continue this little strip show or whatever the hell, be my guest. I won’t stop you.”

Michael didn’t move, but he lowered his hands ever so slightly. 

“That’s what I thought.” Jacqueline narrowed her eyes. “Tell me, Mikey, what were you hoping to get out of that? I mean, it’s not like you have any weapons.”

At that instant, Michael’s uncuffed hand twitched. Jacqueline’s eyes immediately darted to it, picking up on the way it hovered above his pocket. “What do you have in there?”

Michael responded with a glare and nothing else. Jacqueline straightened up and approached him. “Empty your pocket.”

He didn’t move. 

“I said empty your pocket. Don’t think I won’t hesitate to hurt you.”

Slowly, Michael reached into his pocket and fished something out. Jacqueline held her hand out toward him.

“Give it.”

When her hand moved, Michael’s eyes followed. For a brief minute, Jacqueline thought about retracting it. She was close enough for him to grab, and the way his eyes lingered made her uneasy. She knew first hand that he wasn’t hesitant about killing with his bare hands.

As she was about to pull back, his hand moved again. Michael deposited the object into her palm. Jacqueline stepped back and examined it, raising her eyebrow.

In her hand, she held a decent sized piece of stone. Jacqueline’s eyes trailed over it and then she shifted and studied the basement wall. The piece she held, and the wall appeared to be one and the same, yet she saw no visible hole anywhere. Things began shifting into place.

“Ah, I see,” she said finally, clutching the piece in her fist. “You were trying to distract me so you could bash my head in. Where exactly did this come from, though?”

Jacqueline knew she wouldn’t get a response. She approached Michael’s space again, straying to the opposite side of the radiator away from him. She began examining the area, ignoring the intensity of his stare. Though she didn’t show it, she was rather unnerved.

Still not locating any sort of hole, Jacqueline ran her hand over the surface of the wall. The stone felt dirty under her palm and when she pulled it away, she noticed the skin on her fingers was black. She wrinkled her nose and rubbed them on her jeans as she continued her search.

Shifting, Jacqueline crouched and examined the space behind the radiator itself. Like the wall, it was dirty. A decent number of cobwebs became visible.

_Ugh. I swear to god if there’s a spider…._

Slowly, she reached her hand out and slid it across the lower part of the wall. Dirt, dust, and cobwebs collected on her fingers, but she pressed on. It didn’t take long for her to be rewarded. 

Several inches from the floor, Jacqueline’s hand suddenly dipped inward. She stopped and pulled her hand out, picking up the piece of wall. She maneuvered it toward the hole and slid it in. It was a perfect fit

_Jackpot._

Jacqueline removed the piece and tucked it into her back pocket. “Son of a bitch, you broke my wall.” She pushed herself up from the floor and stepped away from the radiator. “You know that’s how mice get in, right?” 

Michael kept his cold stare on Jacqueline as she returned to where she had left the water bucket and cleaning supplies. She rummaged through them and picked something up. “I have to give you props, Mikey. That wasn’t a terrible plan you had. It wasn’t perfect by any means, mind you, but it could have been worse. You did make one crucial mistake though.” She looked over her shoulder.

He tilted his head ever so slightly as if silently asking what she meant. Jacqueline smirked and turned, revealing the knife she had. “You brought a rock to a knife fight.”

Michael didn’t flinch as Jacqueline walked back over. His expression never wavered. The only thing that moved was his eyes, watching her every move. 

She nonchalantly twisted the knife around in her hands. “Such a powerful object, huh Mikey? Simple and lightweight, yet oh so dangerous. You know that though. I bet you’ve used many in your days, haven’t you?”

He blinked once in response as he had earlier. Jacqueline chuckled.

“You’ve been on the receiving end of it as well.” She pointed the tip of the knife toward him and he reacted. Michael lunged, making a grab at her. Jacqueline ducked away and slashed the top of his hand, blood immediately dripping onto the floor. He made a second attempt and dislodged the knife, sending it skittering across the basement floor. 

Jacqueline started after it when she stumbled and crashed to the floor. Michael had managed to grab onto her leg, smearing his blood onto her jeans. Gritting her teeth, she maneuvered herself onto her back and thrashed her leg out. Her foot connected squarely with Michael’s groin and he doubled over, dropping to his knees and releasing her leg. 

She scrambled to her feet, panting slightly. Michael knelt on the floor, cuffed hand clutching himself through the jumpsuit. His free hand touched the floor, curled in a tight fist. The look he gave Jacqueline was one of absolute wrath. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You deserved it, you fuck.” Jacqueline went and retrieved the knife, dunking it into the water bucket to remove Michael’s blood. “You’re lucky I don’t come over there and cut it off.”

Michael’s head cocked ever so slightly as if to say, _“I dare you.”_

“No thanks.” She read his expression. “I’ve had enough fun with you for one day. You can sit in that soiled jumpsuit another night.” Jacqueline gathered up the stuff, including Michael’s mask. “This is coming with me. You’re not getting it back for a while, if at all.” She disappeared up the stairs, everything in tow.

Michael watched her go. Slowly, his fist unclenched, his palm laying flat against the cool concrete flooring. The cut on his hand, shallow as it was, stung like hell. His groin throbbed steadily, painfully. He would be sore for a little while, but he didn’t care. He would tune out the pain as he had many times in the past. External problems mattered none.

Inside, however, Michael’s blood boiled.


End file.
